When I'm sniping I grab the combat sniper, RPG to fend off helicopters, and grenades to fend off other people below me. usually grab another regular gun along my way as a last resort. I don't go out of my way to collect other weapons.

i don't know, you gotta watch out for GLC too... if i had to predict a winner other than myself, which would be damn near impossible to do since i know i am going to win, i'd pick GLC... he seems more suited for action in the streets... he was owning all of us in bohan...

--------------------

QUOTE (Massacre @ Mar 15 2011, 01:24 AM)

Oh, good one. The "you're on the internet so you must have no life" insult isn't moronic or unoriginal at all. You must, without a doubt, be a very important member of society, not at all a waste of the already barely valuable gift of life.

As is the case for everyone who takes issue with people who make them sad on the internet, you are one of two kinds of people:

You are exactly what you claim I am, and that is a lonely, pathetic basement dweller. You life is spent eating eight pounds of junk food per day, masturbating to anything you find online that's even remotely feminine, and wishing you had good looks and social skills. You continue to live with your mother until she dies of a combination of lung cancer and liver failure brought on by the chain-smoking and heavy drinking she used to cope with what a failure you are. Your mother mercifully dead and free of the living embodiment of failure she regretfully thrust from her loins, the bills start to pile up and you, unemployed and unable to pay these bills (of course), lose the house and everything in it. Somehow even more of a failure than you already were, you wander from place to place eating out of dumpsters and sleeping in your own filth until you finally die of AIDS, which you contracted from a diseased whore you scrounged up enough money to pay for, so you could finally lose your virginity while at the same time pretending that your mother was back in your life.

Or:

You are the type who was an athlete in high school, who was genetically doomed to be an idiot but managed to finish school and even get a college scholarship because you were so good at a worthless children's game. You went off to college with a suitcase full of polo shirts and condoms, the polo shirts, because you're a douche, and the condoms to prevent you from impregnating the dim-witted young college girls whom you could never touch without the aid of Rohypnol, a drug you refer to as "roofies" because you can neither spell or pronounce Rohypnol. You scrape by with borderline D's for the next four years, and leave the campus to go out into the real world where your realize you're not intelligent or talented enough to do anything of value with your life. Misery and minimum wage ensues for thirty years, then you blow your brains out, and your corpse, alone and forgotten, is not discovered until the smell of rotting flesh seeps under your door and your bodily fluids finally soak through the floor of your studio apartment and into the room below you. Your body is cremated, the ashes scraped into a garbage bin because there was no one in your life who valued you enough to pay for a casket, funeral, or burial plot.

You're undoubtedly one of the two, otherwise you would have better things to do than complain about the theme of a forum that doesn't care about anything you have to say.

When I'm sniping I grab the combat sniper, RPG to fend off helicopters, and grenades to fend off other people below me. usually grab another regular gun along my way as a last resort. I don't go out of my way to collect other weapons.

But RPGs are unreliable when trying to shoot down choppers. Its best to just snipe the pilot, its what i do, usually shocks the shit out of them when their big ass powerful armed heli falls to the earth and their dead corpse still sits in the front seat while my name is pronounced "ARCHmajor high-calibered.....whomever" lol

When I'm sniping I grab the combat sniper, RPG to fend off helicopters, and grenades to fend off other people below me. usually grab another regular gun along my way as a last resort. I don't go out of my way to collect other weapons.

But RPGs are unreliable when trying to shoot down choppers. Its best to just snipe the pilot, its what i do, usually shocks the shit out of them when their big ass powerful armed heli falls to the earth and their dead corpse still sits in the front seat while my name is pronounced "ARCHmajor high-calibered.....whomever" lol

Oh I've done that (and lol'd my ass off) but I usually don't want to waste bullets and most of the time I hide next to something to prevent choppers from just running me over. If they really want me they have to maneuver around and aim. I only fire when they are close. Plus even if I miss with an RPG, they'll usually pick on someone else after it whizzes bye.

don't let him fool you... i'll never forget when me and GLC held down a location by bernie's in algonquin for like 10 minutes... the cops were present at level 4+ and me and GLC fucking took it to them and fended off all incoming players... if i recall, vicey was playing too but, he died just as i arrived and started doing his own thing ... but we hunkered down there and fucking whooped ass... it was one of the best ass kickings i dealt out in GTAIV in freeroam... no one could touch us, until the cops finally got us...

and speaking of that, i got no problem playing against the cops in a deathmatch as well... i love changing the dynamics in any online match... i get sick of the same 'ol same 'ol all the time *cough* airport *cough*....

--------------------

QUOTE (Massacre @ Mar 15 2011, 01:24 AM)

Oh, good one. The "you're on the internet so you must have no life" insult isn't moronic or unoriginal at all. You must, without a doubt, be a very important member of society, not at all a waste of the already barely valuable gift of life.

As is the case for everyone who takes issue with people who make them sad on the internet, you are one of two kinds of people:

You are exactly what you claim I am, and that is a lonely, pathetic basement dweller. You life is spent eating eight pounds of junk food per day, masturbating to anything you find online that's even remotely feminine, and wishing you had good looks and social skills. You continue to live with your mother until she dies of a combination of lung cancer and liver failure brought on by the chain-smoking and heavy drinking she used to cope with what a failure you are. Your mother mercifully dead and free of the living embodiment of failure she regretfully thrust from her loins, the bills start to pile up and you, unemployed and unable to pay these bills (of course), lose the house and everything in it. Somehow even more of a failure than you already were, you wander from place to place eating out of dumpsters and sleeping in your own filth until you finally die of AIDS, which you contracted from a diseased whore you scrounged up enough money to pay for, so you could finally lose your virginity while at the same time pretending that your mother was back in your life.

Or:

You are the type who was an athlete in high school, who was genetically doomed to be an idiot but managed to finish school and even get a college scholarship because you were so good at a worthless children's game. You went off to college with a suitcase full of polo shirts and condoms, the polo shirts, because you're a douche, and the condoms to prevent you from impregnating the dim-witted young college girls whom you could never touch without the aid of Rohypnol, a drug you refer to as "roofies" because you can neither spell or pronounce Rohypnol. You scrape by with borderline D's for the next four years, and leave the campus to go out into the real world where your realize you're not intelligent or talented enough to do anything of value with your life. Misery and minimum wage ensues for thirty years, then you blow your brains out, and your corpse, alone and forgotten, is not discovered until the smell of rotting flesh seeps under your door and your bodily fluids finally soak through the floor of your studio apartment and into the room below you. Your body is cremated, the ashes scraped into a garbage bin because there was no one in your life who valued you enough to pay for a casket, funeral, or burial plot.

You're undoubtedly one of the two, otherwise you would have better things to do than complain about the theme of a forum that doesn't care about anything you have to say.

and speaking of that, i got no problem playing against the cops in a deathmatch as well...

^Exactly what I was thinking when I started reading your post. There's plenty of matches left so I'm sure we'll exercise all the options.

...and i thought about adding cops to this deathmatch too but, i thought it was too soon ... i figured rain would be the sort of thing that gets others thinking about changing stuff up too...

This post has been edited by bOnEs: Feb 11 2010, 07:13 AM

--------------------

QUOTE (Massacre @ Mar 15 2011, 01:24 AM)

Oh, good one. The "you're on the internet so you must have no life" insult isn't moronic or unoriginal at all. You must, without a doubt, be a very important member of society, not at all a waste of the already barely valuable gift of life.

As is the case for everyone who takes issue with people who make them sad on the internet, you are one of two kinds of people:

You are exactly what you claim I am, and that is a lonely, pathetic basement dweller. You life is spent eating eight pounds of junk food per day, masturbating to anything you find online that's even remotely feminine, and wishing you had good looks and social skills. You continue to live with your mother until she dies of a combination of lung cancer and liver failure brought on by the chain-smoking and heavy drinking she used to cope with what a failure you are. Your mother mercifully dead and free of the living embodiment of failure she regretfully thrust from her loins, the bills start to pile up and you, unemployed and unable to pay these bills (of course), lose the house and everything in it. Somehow even more of a failure than you already were, you wander from place to place eating out of dumpsters and sleeping in your own filth until you finally die of AIDS, which you contracted from a diseased whore you scrounged up enough money to pay for, so you could finally lose your virginity while at the same time pretending that your mother was back in your life.

Or:

You are the type who was an athlete in high school, who was genetically doomed to be an idiot but managed to finish school and even get a college scholarship because you were so good at a worthless children's game. You went off to college with a suitcase full of polo shirts and condoms, the polo shirts, because you're a douche, and the condoms to prevent you from impregnating the dim-witted young college girls whom you could never touch without the aid of Rohypnol, a drug you refer to as "roofies" because you can neither spell or pronounce Rohypnol. You scrape by with borderline D's for the next four years, and leave the campus to go out into the real world where your realize you're not intelligent or talented enough to do anything of value with your life. Misery and minimum wage ensues for thirty years, then you blow your brains out, and your corpse, alone and forgotten, is not discovered until the smell of rotting flesh seeps under your door and your bodily fluids finally soak through the floor of your studio apartment and into the room below you. Your body is cremated, the ashes scraped into a garbage bin because there was no one in your life who valued you enough to pay for a casket, funeral, or burial plot.

You're undoubtedly one of the two, otherwise you would have better things to do than complain about the theme of a forum that doesn't care about anything you have to say.

and speaking of that, i got no problem playing against the cops in a deathmatch as well...

^Exactly what I was thinking when I started reading your post. There's plenty of matches left so I'm sure we'll exercise all the options.

...and i thought about adding cops to this deathmatch too but, i thought it was too soon ... i figured rain would be the sort of thing that gets others thinking about changing stuff up too...

If there's ever a match with the police 'ON' then I'm out, I can't stand the wailing sirens they wreck my skull.

yea but, that's the kind of thing we need to be doing... we shouldn't have the typical kinds of DMs... being a GTA hub, we need to show off the variety that the RAGE engine offers ... we need to offer something different than what you'd normally see on any match you try to join... at least, some of the time... i know the options are a bit, limited...

--------------------

QUOTE (Massacre @ Mar 15 2011, 01:24 AM)

Oh, good one. The "you're on the internet so you must have no life" insult isn't moronic or unoriginal at all. You must, without a doubt, be a very important member of society, not at all a waste of the already barely valuable gift of life.

As is the case for everyone who takes issue with people who make them sad on the internet, you are one of two kinds of people:

You are exactly what you claim I am, and that is a lonely, pathetic basement dweller. You life is spent eating eight pounds of junk food per day, masturbating to anything you find online that's even remotely feminine, and wishing you had good looks and social skills. You continue to live with your mother until she dies of a combination of lung cancer and liver failure brought on by the chain-smoking and heavy drinking she used to cope with what a failure you are. Your mother mercifully dead and free of the living embodiment of failure she regretfully thrust from her loins, the bills start to pile up and you, unemployed and unable to pay these bills (of course), lose the house and everything in it. Somehow even more of a failure than you already were, you wander from place to place eating out of dumpsters and sleeping in your own filth until you finally die of AIDS, which you contracted from a diseased whore you scrounged up enough money to pay for, so you could finally lose your virginity while at the same time pretending that your mother was back in your life.

Or:

You are the type who was an athlete in high school, who was genetically doomed to be an idiot but managed to finish school and even get a college scholarship because you were so good at a worthless children's game. You went off to college with a suitcase full of polo shirts and condoms, the polo shirts, because you're a douche, and the condoms to prevent you from impregnating the dim-witted young college girls whom you could never touch without the aid of Rohypnol, a drug you refer to as "roofies" because you can neither spell or pronounce Rohypnol. You scrape by with borderline D's for the next four years, and leave the campus to go out into the real world where your realize you're not intelligent or talented enough to do anything of value with your life. Misery and minimum wage ensues for thirty years, then you blow your brains out, and your corpse, alone and forgotten, is not discovered until the smell of rotting flesh seeps under your door and your bodily fluids finally soak through the floor of your studio apartment and into the room below you. Your body is cremated, the ashes scraped into a garbage bin because there was no one in your life who valued you enough to pay for a casket, funeral, or burial plot.

You're undoubtedly one of the two, otherwise you would have better things to do than complain about the theme of a forum that doesn't care about anything you have to say.